And Thereby Hangs a Tale

“Not on my sister’s birthday, it isn’t. In any case, it’s turned out to be a rather special day for me as well.”

“And why’s that?” asked Janet as she handed him a program. “Not another promotion?”

“No, more important than that—” began Arnold as people round him began to rise and start clapping as the Princess Royal entered the royal box. She gave the audience a wave before taking her seat. Janet waved back.

“She’s always been one of my favorites,” Janet said as the audience sat back down. “But do tell me, Arnold, why it’s such a special day for you?”

“Well, it all began when he moved into our block—”

“Who are you talking about?” interrupted Janet as the lights went down.

“I must confess, I had my doubts about him from the start. . . .” Arnold whispered as the conductor raised his baton. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner,” he added as the orchestra began to play a melody most of the audience knew off by heart.

Arnold enjoyed the first half of the musical, and when the curtain fell for the interval, it was clear from the rapturous applause that he was not alone.

Several members of the audience rose and peered up at the royal box, where Princess Anne was chatting to her husband. Suddenly the door at the back of the box opened, and a man whose face Arnold could never forget walked in, dressed in a scruffy dinner jacket, one hand in his pocket.

“Oh my God,” said Arnold, “it’s him!”

“It’s who?” said Janet, her eyes not straying from the royal box.

“The man I was telling you about,” said Arnold. “He’s a terrorist, and somehow he’s managed to escape and get into the royal box.” Arnold didn’t wait to hear his sister’s next question. He knew his duty, and quickly squeezed past the people in his row, not caring whose toes he trod on while ignoring a barrage of angry protests. When he reached the aisle he began to run toward the exit, pushing aside anyone who got in his way. Once he was in the foyer he quickly looked round then charged up the sweeping staircase that led to the dress circle, while the majority of theatergoers were making their way slowly down to the crush bar on the ground floor. Several people stopped and stared at the ill-mannered man going so rudely against the tide. Arnold ignored them, as well as several caustic comments addressed directly at him. At the top of the stairs he set off in the direction of the royal box, but when he came to a red rope barrier, two burly police officers stepped forward and blocked his path.

“Can I help you, sir?” one of them asked politely.

“There’s a dangerous terrorist in the royal box,” shouted Arnold. “The princess’s life is in danger.”

“Please calm down, sir,” said the officer. “The only guest in the royal box this evening is Professor Naresh Khan, the distinguished American orthopedic surgeon who is over here to give a series of lectures on the problems he encountered following 9/11.”

“Yes, that’s him,” said Arnold. “He may be posing as a famous surgeon, but I assure you, he’s an escaped terrorist.”

“Why don’t you show this gentleman back to his seat,” said the officer, turning to his colleague.

“And why don’t you call Commander Harrison at Scotland Yard,” said Arnold. “He’ll confirm my story. My name is Arnold Pennyworthy.”

The two officers looked at each other for a moment, and then more closely at Arnold. The senior officer dialed a number on his mobile phone.

“Put me through to the Yard.” A few moments passed, too long for Arnold, who was becoming more frantic by the second.

“I need to speak to Commander Harrison, urgently,” the officer said.

After what seemed an eternity to Arnold, the commander came on the line.

“Good evening, sir, my name is Bolton, Royal Protection team, currently on duty at the London Palladium. A member of the public—a Mr. Pennyworthy—is convinced there’s a terrorist in the royal box, and he says you’ll confirm his story.” Arnold hoped they would still be in time to save her life. “I’ll put him on, sir.” The officer handed the phone to Arnold, who tried to remain calm.

“That man we discussed this afternoon, Commander, he must have escaped, because I’ve just seen him in the royal box.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Pennyworthy,” said the commander calmly, “that’s not possible. The man we spoke about this afternoon is locked up in a high-security prison from which he’s unlikely to be released in your lifetime.”

“But I’ve just seen him in the royal box!” shouted Arnold desperately. “You must tell your men to arrest him before it’s too late.”

“I don’t know whom you’ve just seen in the royal box, sir,” said the commander, “but I can assure you that it isn’t Mr. Zebari.”

BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

13

The chairman climbed out of the back of his car and strode into the bank.